Warriors: Black City
by Abyss-Dance
Summary: Warriors: Black City tells about what would have happened if the Clans had not left their homes. This story takes place after The Darkest Hour, and proceeds as if the New Prophecy does not exist.In this story, the twolegs came earlier, while Sandstorm had
1. Allegiances

Note: At the beginning of this Fic, the other Clans are nowhere to be seen. As more Clans and cats appear, this will be updated. 

You may notice that the Clans look unusually small. This is because most of the cats died in the Twoleg attacks.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Warriors. Though I'm still trying to get the Warriors authors to give me Onewhisker…

ThunderClan 

Leader: Firestar

Deputy: Graystripe

Medicine Cat: none

Warriors:

Sandstorm

Dustpelt

Cloudtail

Apprentices:

Sorrelpaw

Queens:

Sandstorm

Ferncloud

Kits:

Lightkit

Bloomingkit

Forestkit

Kestrelkit

Elders:

Longtail


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

_Weak yellow sunlight _beamed across the fields and touched the Twoleg's monsters to copper and silver fire. The earth was muddy and churned, crisscrossed by tire tracks and desperately fleeing paw marks. Trees lay stacked in neat piles, as if they were matchsticks in a box instead of live things recently murdered.

In one of the deep gullies, newly formed by the rain, a shivering Clan crouched.

One cat, a tom with a dull red pelt, placed his paws gingerly on the edge of the gully and looked out at the world.

"This was my _home,_" he mewed in a cracked voice. His eyes were a beaten greenish shade, wide and dark with sorrow. They were an aching void; looking into them made one feel as though you really _could _die of a broken heart.

Beside him, a she-cat stirred and twined her tail with his. She was sand-colored, though her fur was too clotted with mud to show any of that color. Her belly was swollen with kits, who now had no home. Her pale green eyes were glazed, stunned. In a low voice, a parody of her voice, really, she said, "It was all of ours. It was our kit's, too..." She trailed off, her eyes combing the barren landscape for something familiar, anything, but she found nothing.

Quite suddenly, a third voice joined in. "We should have listened to them! None of this would have happened..."

The dull red tom turned to see a pure white cat, his fur splattered with mud. "I'm sorry, Cloudtail," the red tom muttered, his ears flattening.

The sand-colored she-cat flared. "Can't you see he's trying his best!" she hissed, taking a step forward, looking threatening in spite of her swollen belly.

Cloudtail backed off, his amber eyes reproachful. "All right, cool it, Sandstorm, I'm just stating the facts."

Sandstorm turned away, allowing her fur to fall flat.

The red tom watched impassively, staying where he was in spite of a chill breeze that howled across the plains. "So much has been lost..." he murmured, a strange, sobbing sound in his voice. "The forest is not the same."

"Firestar!" cried a dusky brown tabby.

The red tom, Firestar, glanced at the tabby. "Yes, Dustpelt?" he asked.

"It's Ferncloud!" Dustpelt replied, his voice quavering. "If she doesn't get some food soon... She's already sick, you know..." His eyes were pleading. Without prey, his mate and kits would die within days.

Firestar's eyes narrowed, and a troubled expression darkened his features.

He leaped out of the gully and nearly cried out in shock as the cold wind buffeted him. Waving his tail to balance him, he yowled for order.

The whispering Thunderclan cats grew silent and turned their questioning gazed on their leader.

Getting right to the point, Firestar called, "Graystripe, can you lead a hunting patrol? Cloudtail, Dustpelt, and Brightheart will go with you."

The named cats nodded to Firestar and leaped, one by one, out of the gully. Their silhouettes, thin and fragile against the mottled dawn sky, drove a thorn into Firestar's heart. They were so weak, all of them...

Graystripe threw Firestar a reassuring glance and lead the patrol away.

They padded, single file, across the barren mud-choked plain to the crest of a hill.

They vanished over the hilltop, and Firestar silently called, '_Be safe!'_


	3. Breaking the Cycle

**Chapter 1 - Breaking the Cycle**

_The city seemed _tospring up overnight. One day the sun shone on endless hills of mud and tire tracks, and the next day, on endless rivers of hot-top. Monsters came and went, their low rumbling growl never far away.

The days passed with an unsettling rhythm: sleeping fitfully in a gully by day, hunting by night. The only _good_ thing about the Twolegs was that wherever they went, rats were sure to follow. The clans ate at least decently, but far worse were the drone of the monsters. It became a routine procedure, when the monsters came; the Clan would take the kits and the uneaten prey and flee, flee to yet another location, another muddy gully, and continue the same day-in-day-out rhythm.

Moons passed. Ferncloud had her kits in the stone hollow beneath the Thunderpath. They were born to dirt and grime and hunger and wetness, and there was no time to grieve for the circumstances of their birth.

Moons passed. Ferncloud grew thinner and thinner as she struggled to feed her kits. One died, then another and another, and Dustpelt's cries of anguish echoed against the sides of the twoleg's monsters.

Moons passed. Two kits remained, and Sandstorm herself was close to birthing. She was tough and wiry, but she feared her kits were suffering. Ferncloud was ill and weak and her kits slept restlessly, crying in the night.

Moons passed endlessly. Ferncloud died, leaving her two kits alone in the world. With her last breaths their mother had named them Lightkit and Bloomingkit, so their father would remember that there was good in the world.

Sandstorm kitted in the open, beneath stars that seemed blurred and distant.

Firestar had heard nothing from their ancestors since the destruction began.

Lightkit and Bloomingkit joined Sandstorm's litter, a tom and a she-cat: Forestkit and Kestrelkit. Dustpelt never let his kits from his sight, and they were all that kept him from leaping before a twoleg monster to end it all. He grew bitter, but he hunted and fought just as hard, for them.

And worse, Brightheart was slaughtered on the Thunderpath one night. She hadn't seen the monster coming and it slammed into her in a rush of color and sound. She hadn't seen the monster and Cloudtail screamed '_No Brightheart no!'_ but still her life ran out; it ran out in little red streams across the blacktop Thunderpath. It ran out and left Brightheart cold, and left Cloudtail cold, and left Thunderclan cold with shock and horror.

Time marched on.

It was Graystripe who broke the cycle. He and Firestar stood on a hilltop, feeling the cold midnight wind ripple their unkempt fur. Their eyes searched the city unfolding beneath them, swarming with twolegs, building, always building on itself. So many moons had passed since the destruction began that sometimes Firestar felt like an elder, weak and gasping, gray in the fur. Indeed, a streak of gray was already appearing on his muzzle, right above his nose. Stress gray, and it made him uneasy. Was he still strong enough to lead the Clan?

The city lights shone in his and Graystripe's fur. It was a moonless night, and the hills surrounding the city were as black as that space where the moon should be.

As black as Brightheart's eyes as she died.

The thought made Firestar shiver, and he tucked it away. He couldn't sleep, hadn't been able to properly sleep in moons. He knew the dark, shadowed look in Brightheart's eyes would follow him for moons more, maybe forever.

He looked away, thought about something else. The city was bright that night; brighter than yesterday, and growing brighter every night. Already it seemed monstrously large to the Clan cats. They had never seen anything so huge. _And to think this was once all forest,_ Firestar mused sadly.

Thunderclan lived in the hills overlooking the city, near what had once been Windclan land. Prey was hard to come by, and leaving their makeshift 'camp' in the deep part of a dried river was dangerous. Brackenfur and Thornclaw had left a moon ago, and had never returned.

A shallow cave was laboriously dug into the sheer side of the riverbank, carefully, so as not to cause a landslide. It sheltered Sandstorm and her kits, along with blind Longtail. The rest of the clan slept in the riverbank itself, utterly exposed.

As Firestar thought about his makeshift camp, his eyes narrowed. A strange, bitter light shone in them. Surely the other clans, if they had lived, were not living like this? For Firestar had not encountered any of the Clans since the initial destruction, not even scents.

Of course, Firestar could not know the despair felt by the surviving Windclan cats as they huddled in the farm on the edge of their old territory, watching the new city fearfully; nor the confusion of the Riverclan cats, making sharp shadows by the crackling fires of the twoleg's campsites; nor even the rage of the helpless Shadowclan cats, struggling to live in the chill shadow of Mothermouth.

Thunderclan was starving, dying.

Graystripe's own eyes were unreadable. Firestar wondered if his friend was thinking of Silverstream, his lost love. Or maybe his kits, in Riverclan?

Quite suddenly, Graystripe spoke. "Firestar, I...I think we should go there."

Firestar stared at his friend, mouth open in surprise. "What?" he mewed in utter confusion.

Graystripe gestured to the bright city below. "You know-- there. The City. We should live there."

Firestar's fur bristled. "What?" he repeated, lashing his tail. "Live in a City? With twolegs? You must be out of your mind! They'd kill us for sure!"

Graystripe met Firestar's gaze, solemn. "Are you sure? And can it be any worse than how we live _now?_"

Firestar found that hard to answer. Twolegs were the enemy! It was wrong... But...what if there was more prey there? Firestar's responsibility as a leader delegated that he must to the best for his clan... "Why?" he said bluntly, still not quite grasping the concept.

Graystripe blinked, and meowed slowly, "Well, what if there's rats there? We could hunt 'em, I reckon, and maybe there's shelter. Certainly there's more space than those twolegs need."

Firestar gaped. "But so close to twolegs! It's wrong, and what about dogs and monsters?"

"We dealt with 'em here, we can learn to deal with 'em there," Graystripe replied stubbornly.

Firestar sighed, almost amused. He cuffed Graystripe lightly on the shoulder, meowing, "But there are more in the City,"

"I know."

Firestar stared down into the shining belly of the City. Maybe they _could_ live there. Maybe Graystripe was right.

And _that_ is how Graystripe broke the cycle.

Firestar spoke to Thunderclan the next morning. He leaped onto the tree-stump that served as a Highrock and yowled, "All cats old enough to catch their own prey, meet here beneath the Treestump for a Clan meeting!"

Slowly the Thunderclan cats gathered, grumbling to each other. Longtail was guided to the rock by Sandstorm, who was now comfortable enough to leave her kits in the den below her. The youngest cat present, Newly-apprenticed Sorrelpaw, gazed up at Firestar in awe. Her golden eyes sparked with interest; she seemed lively enough, despite the loss of her mentor, Mousefur.

Firestar surveyed his clan, unable to smother a prickling of pride. Thunderclan was strong. They would survive.

Firestar began. "Cats of Thunderclan, I have two things to take care of. First of all, Sorrelpaw is without a mentor. Since we are settled in, I shall assign her another cat to continue her training where Mousefur left off."

The Clan seemed to agree. They passed each other knowing looks, their eyes grave.

Firestar continued, "Graystripe, you will complete Sorrelpaw's training." His green eyes strayed to Graystripe. The tom seemed cheered as he stepped forward to greet his new apprentice. Firestar grinned inwardly. _It's good for him, I think. He'll be a good mentor, _he thought.

Firestar's voice grew grave as he called, "But there is another issue that I must discuss with you. I--I--" he spoke haltingly as he said this, unsure of how to put it. It would cause an uproar no matter how he said it. "...I think it would be a good idea to leave here and move to the city," he finished brusquely

The Clan grew silent. A few gasps were heard.

Firestar's fur prickled as the eyes of every cat fell upon him. Their expressions were accusing, confused, and, on some, angry.

Longtail's voice broke the silence. "But this is our home!"

"Not anymore!" Firestar countered. "The twolegs have destroyed our home. The forest is no more."

Another voice joined in. "Firestar, this is crazy! We'd never survive in the city, we can barely survive outside it!" Cloudtail cried.

"Exactly! That's why we must go; in the City there will be food to hunt and many places to rest," Firestar meowed.

"How do you know? For all we know rogues and dogs could have taken all the prey!" Cloudtail challenged, his eyes flashing furiously.

Firestar's tail lashed. Now he really _was _angry. "We will fight them! This is no life, living in a ditch with no dens and no prey! We are starving, we all know this!" He replied with equal passion. Stealing a quick glance at his Clan, he was relieved to see that a few cats were nodding, Longtail among them.

Cloudtail shook his head, muttering, "We must all be crazy!" But he had no further arguments.

However, Dustpelt did. "My kits!" he mewed, an agonized twinge in his voice. "They won't survive such a long move, and the City's dangerous!"

Firestar frowned, his green eyes thoughtful. "My kits survived the move here, and we'd all die to protect the kits..."

Dustpelt did not look convinced. "No!" he growled. "I refuse to let my kits go somewhere so dangerous!"

To Firestar's intense relief Sandstorm spoke. "Dustpelt, can it be any worse than here? We're starving, as Firestar already pointed out!"

Dustpelt threw Sandstorm a long, unreadable glance. After an eternity, he meowed in a voice weary and resigned, "Fine."

He turned and vanished into the shadows of the makeshift den, where his two kits whimpered in their sleep.

After the meeting, Firestar fled to the hills once more. Watching the city, Firestar became aware of how hard his heart was thudding. He was terrified--

A crunching sound made Firestar jump. He whirled, fur bristling.

It was only Sandstorm.

The she-cat sat beside him, smirking slightly as his reaction. Most days, she would have made a mocking comment, but today she was too tired. "Firestar, I don't think going to the city is a good idea at all," she meowed matter-of-factly.

Firestar's heart dropped into his paws. "You don't?" he mewed.

"No. But...I'll follow you wherever you choose to go. Firestar--"

Firestar, who had been busy dropping into a depression -his plan had almost no support, and his Clan was dying-, felt his thudding heart suddenly stop. In the silence, the stillness, he watched Sandstorm. His spirits soared. "I know," he breathed. _I know,_ his mind echoed.

Sandstorm wrapped her tail neatly around her paws, meeting Firestar's gaze. She didn't move a muscle.

The pair stood that was for a long time, until the sun rose higher in the sky and both departed to complete their various businesses.


End file.
